


Age of Rey

by NaomiPhoenix, regnumveritatis



Series: There is no such thing as "too much Luke/Rey"! [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), The Age of Adaline (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Freedom Fighters, Government Agencies, Great Depression, Grief/Mourning, Hiding in Plain Sight, Historical Accuracy, Leia Organa Ships It, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Magic, Online Relationship, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Pillow Talk, Protective Han Solo, Rey Needs A Hug, Skywalker Family Feels, South America, Suitless Vader, Torture, True Love, World War I, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiPhoenix/pseuds/NaomiPhoenix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/regnumveritatis/pseuds/regnumveritatis
Summary: Part of my ongoing mission to fill A03 with as many Rey/Luke stories as I can, the common thread in these being that both characters get the happy ending Disney stole from Luke and probably won't grant Rey.The Age Of Adaline/Star Wars fic somebody actually asked for this time.





	1. 1916

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariposaroja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariposaroja/gifts).



6 years old: Leaving behind the motherland (Rey's first Christmas in America)

She does not remember մայր* the way most people recall their parents. For her people, there was no great family picnic celebrations like the Americans seem so fond of having. There was no lavish Christmas party with a tree cut down for no purpose other than to be decorated like a corpse before its funeral. But this new land has no place for her mother's customs here, no place for the little girl's accent that causes the other 'orphans' to laugh. (Rey knows she's not an orphan. այր just put me on the boat so I wouldn't slow her down. She'll come back for me, mother always comes back for me) Rey's father had disappeared in Constantinople, along with the rest of the school. Eight men came to the Ottoman Empire's capital, only a wounded Kitster returned.

The old parish priest Lor San Tekka claimed this was the beginning of the end for their people. First they'd attack the intellectuals and students, then they'd perform raids on the village and then, when they were all but crushed they'd be transported to that new camp some officials were talking about: the one where Christians paid their dues. More than half the town laughed at the old priest when he bought a boat and started smuggling people away to America, a few months later none of the scant survivors were giggling. Instead they were too busy shoving children into his little ship with a frenzy unlike any other. Most of the parents told their progeny to remember their very last hug together. Rey's didn't, that's how she knows her mother is going to survive. That's why she wants to go back to Armenia when the war's over. Mother must be lonely at Christmas, all by herself.

"Rey, darling? Don't you want a cookie before going to bed on Christmas?"

The question comes from Mrs Jira Skywalker, a twenty-seven year old Lebanese immigrant who's working to save up for a farm to live in with her husband and daughter. Rey likes her lots and lots ever since the lady was kind enough to teach her how to read and write English. She takes the sugar cookie to make her happy. Mrs. Skywalker is sweet and thoughtful and actually set up a small part of the living room with pillows for a soft landing once Rey explained that it was tradition for children to climb the rooftops in her native country. Shmi is seven and the best story-time reader Rey's ever known. Mrs. Skywalker has lamented at times that she has no son to marry Rey with because that way they could really be family ( None of them know that Rey will someday fall in love with Jira's great-grandson)

Mr and Mrs. Skywalker don't have the money to adopt her, sometimes Rey thinks they feel very guilty about it but Rey's secretly relieved that they can't afford another mouth to feed. This way she'll never be forced to choose between her mother and Jira. Lights are out for everyone at the orphanage at 7pm. Just before going to bed young Rey sneaks back into the living room to retrieve her mother's last gift: a hand spun Turkish soldier doll that Rey brought to America with her. When she's in the warm sofa where her Dolly stayed Rey hears voices in the corridor. One of them sounds like Lor San Tekka and the other like the orphanage's manager Mr. Plo Koon. Maybe he's here to bring news of her mother! Maybe mother is coming to America in time for New Year's Eve! Quiet determination fills her as the tiny girl tiptoes over to where the voices are loudest, gleeful suspense causing her to tremble all the while.

"And you're certain that she was taken?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"Perhaps there's still some chance Mrs. Bowman could be recovered. Rey is so hopeful for their reunion."

"No one comes back alive from the camps. I should know, I've spent months trying to label the dead."

_Mother's not coming for me, mother's not coming back at all,  ~~ **Mother's probably dead and buried in an unmarked grave.......**~~_

It is midnight of December 26, 1916 and Rey is still crying. It's not fair, mother didn't do anything wrong. None of those people who got taken away did anything wrong. Why does everybody get taken away? Why does everyone leave her? She doesn't know, she might never find out. But she swears that when she has a family of her own that  **nothing** will ever tear her apart from her new parents and/or new siblings.

(She reaches 18 without being adopted, Rey henceforth adds to her list of questions: why does no one want me?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Armenian Genocide is not recognized by the Turkish government but the numbers speak for themselves. Around 600 thousand- 180 hundred thousand people were persecuted, forced to leave their homes and sent to concentration camps where the hard labor killed most of them. Some victim's corpses were mockingly placed on long wooden crosses and left to rot. The Ottoman Empire believed Armenia's long standing tradition of Christianity made their loyalty questionable against the Russian and Serbian forces that shared the same religion but were on the opposite side of the war.  
> Hands out tin cup: comments please????


	2. 1931

Age 19: New Year's Eve, 1931 (Rey's last day before the spell)

Maria and her husband Diego Dameron's radio allows the crowd at Rey's tiny but well-loved Brooklyn apartment to hear Guy Lombardo's version of 'Auld Lang Syne' being played and broadcast from the Waldorf-Astoria. The young Spanish couple had arrived to America following the dictadorship of General Primo de Rivera in 1923, claiming that Mussolini's actions in Italy proved that a totalitarian regime was no place to raise their son Kes. Rey is certain that if the Skywalker family hadn't been forced to leave New York during the Anarchist (really, everyone with a hint of Italian blood in their veins) persecution due to Jira's mother being from Milan then they all would have gotten along famously. Shmi still writes to her from the Lebanon, her friend is worried about the growing military presence of the French who, despite acknowledging the Lebanese Constitution of 1926, still keep garrisons within the newly minted Lebanese Republic's landmarks. There's also dark whispers in the air about some of the protesters being sold into slavery by the Free French and British forces*. (It is these people who will kill Jira Skywalker and sell Shmi to Egypt in 1933).

Blissfully unaware of what's to come Miss Rey Bowman places the last touches on her garlic-rosemary Chicken that will serve as the main course for New Year's Eve dinner. Perhaps it's a tad extravagant to have a whole chicken **and** oranges with chocolate* when she already bought a hen for Christmas but Rey is counting it as part of her wish for the New Year: that the depression be over by 1932. The same wish held by every member in the table, including baby Kes who babbles 'Pression over!' in his beautifully childish voice that makes Rey want children ever so fiercely. After their meager feast, which was a welcome break from the usual diet of hot biscuits, fried salt pork, molasses and parched cornmeal tea, and doing the dishes the Damerons go to place their toddler son to sleep. Miss Bowman is left alone by 10 pm which leaves her with two hours to reach Times Square and watch the Iron ball drop with the rest of New York. 

The young woman is halfway there when she notices a small, wrinkled Native American woman walking along the pavement with a basket full of jimsonweed flowers* that are somehow unaffected by the gentle snowflakes that fall slowly from the heavens. Rey watches the seemingly magic flower woman until she realizes the strange injun lady isn't paying attention to the road. She mutters to herself that the old woman will be fine, after all hasn't she tread carelessly along the very same road with no dire consequences many times? It'll be fine, stop looking at the elderly and expecting some horrid event to occur, it's quite rude. What would Mother say? Just as Rey's convinced her far-too-noisy-for-its-own-good conscience that the situation is not perilous in any way a food truck comes speeding near the old woman. _Move away lady, move lady- Oh blast it all, I knew this was going to be a bad night! Next time I'll listen to the Damerons and stay home!!!_

Running like an escaped lunatic patient, Rey manages to save the strange elderly figure who must have some sort of visual impediment and hearing issues along with the sight problems to not see or hear the moving truck that nearly squashed her flat on the ground like a pancake. Of course her act of heroism ends up giving Miss Bowman a sore rib thanks to the old lady's basket ramming itself through her body like a shotgun. Wait: where is the poor old woman?!? If this is how Rey is reacting with a young, fresh body then the person she was trying to save must feel absolutely terrible. 

"Thank you for the save young lady. It's much appreciated."  _Oh, I got the worst of the blow. The old woman's right as rain, that's good. Better me than her._

"It was nothing ma'am. Anyone else would have done the same."

"Well, let me pay you back with a drink at my home. It's not far from here and I've got a nice ham in the oven that's much too big for me to eat alone."

"You had me at 'ham'. I can't remember the last time I ate an unsalted pork meat."

 The old woman introduces herself as Maz Kanata, complaining that since her people were sent to the reservations in the late 1850s her true Sioux name is not accepted in the American censor. (Maz's parents called her 'singing rain'). Rey remarks that they're in sisters by pain since both of them belong to a genocide their respective government chose to pretend never actually took place. Maz inquires where Rey was born and nods in understanding when the young woman informs her that she's Armenian. The old woman's place is small but cozy, the lack of furniture in her living room causes Rey to wonder if it's a cultural aspect of Native Americans or if Maz's been forced to sell her coffee table and couch for rent money like half of the neighborhood. Propriety alone keeps the young woman from asking as she and Maz drink a very nice cup of chamomile tea that leaves the outdoor chill behind. The two ladies share stories together for a few hours until finally they reach the subject of love. When Rey answers that she's never been in love the Sioux woman asks to read her hands to see when she'll find her soulmate. Rey avoids laughing at her since it might be an insult to Maz's people and skeptically accepts the offer. A few moments later the old woman's eyes glimpse sorrowfully at the offered limb, as if she's just read a dreadfully sad tale in the palm.

"Oh, how tragic. Really, it's a shame"

"What's a shame? What are you talking about?"

"Your love line dear. See how the lines are apart. That means your life and your soulmate's life don't align. By the time he's born you'll be old or dead."

 _Of course I get the star-crossed lover scenario, it's just my luck that my soulmate will show up when I'm a doddering spinster. He'll probably marry Kes's daughter and I'll meet him as the loving great-aunt who'll hoard every moment we meet like a dragon with its cave of jewels or worse we'll meet and fall in love only for me to die a few weeks later and he'll spend his life alone. **Wait- why am I getting so worked up over a superstition? None of this is real!!!**_ With her brain set to logical conclusions once more Rey talks pleasantly with Maz a little longer till she bids Maz farewell and the old woman wraps up her promised portion of ham. Before leaving, Rey is offered one last cup of tea for the cold winter air, only the young lady notices that Maz takes a few petals from the flowers in her basket and places them in the teapot.  The Sioux elder whispers something in what must be her native tongue as she sets the steaming beverage in Rey's hands. This time, propriety is not enough to stop her from asking.

"What did you just do?"  
  


"I used a bit of the earth's magic to change your fate: now your life shall remain fresh long enough for you to find your happy ending with him. You'll hate me for it at first but once he holds you while the Carnival of Rust plays then you'll understand."  
  
"Right, it was nice meeting you Mrs Kanata. Thanks for the ham."  
  
"Through it all you must remember one thing above all young lady: cling to the light inside yourself. Otherwise it will all be for nothing."

"I'll keep that in mind. Happy New Year."

Shame, the massacre* at Wounded Knee must have dried up the poor woman's wits, not that they called it that in the newspapers. Nonetheless, Maz was very nice to give her such good in these troubling times so Rey decides that maybe a bit of madness isn't the worst thing a person can have. At 1 am in January 1st of 1932, the young woman known as Rey Bowman places her prized goods on the fridge and prepares to sleep, humming Ruth Etting's 'All of me' as she takes off her shoes and trades her good coat for a woolen nightgown that's too big for her and the socks Shmi sent for Christmas. Rey searches the coat's pockets and to her surprise, she finds a stray flower from Maz's basket. She presses the bloom to her nose and inhales its sweet scent before dozing off in bed, thinking that she probably drunk too much rum and tea because the jimsonweed flower looks like it's glowing. Rey giggles at the thought as she drifts into sleep.

After that seemingly insignificant moment Miss Rey Bowman will never age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *These cases of illegal slavery continued until 1943 when France finally agreed to transfer power to the Lebanese government. It was never confirmed or denied that the French government was knowingly involved in the slave trade.  
> *During the depression most people couldn't afford to buy pastries or even the ingredients for baked goods so folks improvised on cheaper ways to make dessert. 'Oranges with chocolate' was one of those improvisations: Folks took a single orange (more than one was a luxury) and a Hershey's chocolate bar, sliced the orange and chocolate squares and put them in a bowl. It became a staple dish for holidays during the 30s.  
> *Jimsonweed, also known as Datura is a traditional plant for Native American enchantments.  
> *The 'battle' of Wounded Knee as the USA history books call it, was the final clash between federal troops and the Sioux. It took place on December 29, 1890 on Wounded Knee Creek in southwestern South Dakota, a tangle of events resulted in the deaths of more than 250, and possibly as many as 300, disarmed Native Americans. These people were guilty of no crime and were not engaged in combat. A substantial number were women and children. Most of the victims were members of the Miniconjou band of the Lakota Sioux who had been intercepted by military forces after they fled their reservation in South Dakota for refuge in the Badlands. For 19th century Americans, it represented the end of Indian resistance and the conquest of the West. For Indians, it represented the utter disregard of the U.S. toward its treaty responsibilities, its duplicity, and its cruelty toward Native people.  
> Hands out tin cup: Comments please???????


	3. 1983 part 1

Age 73, outskirts of Academy of Christian Humanism, September 1, 12:01- 1:45 am

The supposedly young woman is berating herself for not accepting the librarian's offer to sleep in the provisional made for students who through one way or another fail to finish their work before curfew as she tries desperately to fix her old 60s Volkswagen with a broken arm that Rey got from her participation in the people's 'retirement' of Major-General Carol Urzua Ibáñez* less than two days ago. The nature of her to remain 19 causes Miss Bowman to have a slight envy for the dead Major and all the other grey-haired butchers. They can die with the reassurance that mostly everyone they've met will attend, an unfair contrast to the inwardly elder woman whose friends are all dead or enjoying the comforts of old age. 

Miss Rey Bowman has lived in South America since 1972, forced to flee yet again with no one to accompany her on the journey. She misses her life in New York, but that's to be expected. Rey's used to the missing people by now. There's a good chance that she would have left anyway, the neighbors had started talking about how unnaturally young she still looked. Makeup and grey hair dye could only hide so much. After turning twenty-two Rey noticed that she hadn't shed the 'baby skin' as Shmi called it....Sweet gentle Shmi that dissappeared without a trace until finally, on the 1950s she received a letter from a recovery psychologist called Cliegg Lars wrote to her saying that he was Shmi's husband and her dear friend wanted to renew their friendship now that she felt confident enough. Shmi wrote about things that reminded Rey far too much of her last days in Armenia, she's had to stop reading when her oldest friend spoke of the son she gave away to the Brazilian-American missionary Qui-Gon Jinn and the Uruguayan 'Lady Padme' that took young Anakin as a ward of the Catholic church to free him from slavery. Despite this, Rey was very happy that Shmi had chosen to keep her as a confidant. To this day Shmi Skywalker is the best friend she's ever had. That's why it hurt so much when Cliegg wrote that she'd died in the Palestinian riots that plagued the Lebanon in 1958.

Pretending to be 'Rey's daughter' and telling poor Cliegg and young Anakin Skywalker (who was given a longer leave from the US army to attend the funeral) that 'my mother died a month before you sent the letter' was the fifth worst day of her life: the first being the day she left Armenia never to see her mother again, the second being the day the Skywalker family left America and the third being the day FBI agents snatched her because a neighbor reported that she had a copy of Ho Chi Minh's Prison diaries and discovered that her photos from VE day when she was thirty-five and her photos from the great factory strike of 33 when she was twenty one showed the same face at 1972, when she should have looked like a sexagenarian Rey Bowman was outwardly nineteen years old. The only reason she escaped was because her jailers assumed that she didn't know how to pick a lock in a federal cell or hot-wire a car.

After that staying in the USA was no longer an option so she discreetly packed her small bag, asked the Dameron family to come with her and forced down the tears when the older couple said they couldn't leave now that Kes had been drafted to Vietnam. Rey understood that, really she did. But just for once she'd like to choose her first, to renew her faith in one's word after there's been so many promises broken: Lor San Tekka's promise that he'd reunite her with Mother, Jira Skywalker's promise that she would be allowed to care for her in old age, her boyfriend Kylo's promise to marry her after he came back from WWII that was rendered null after she told him that a curse from a Sioux lady ensured that she never aged....  _ **Why did you do this to me Maz? Was it payback for what the Federal government did to your people or did some Armenian hurt you after that? You said whatever you did would help me find a happy ending but all it's done is tarnish and snatch away what little happiness I had in my life!!!**_

She'd chosen Chile as her point instead of Mexico like all those boys avoiding the draft because unlike the USA's latin neighbor the country had a long standing tradition of democracy. No country that killed people to host the Olympics* was worth staying in anyway. While Uruguay, Brazil and Venezuela had all formed authoritarian regimes (Out of which only Venezuela had returned to civil rule) Chile's Republic had stood firm. Just her luck that the tradition would break less than a year after her arrival, at this point Rey is wondering if she's the curse and everything good is undone with her. It certainly felt that way as the dark murmurs of coup d'etat went from a whisper on the rich-people streets to reality.

Rey was limited on funds when Pinochet's dictatorial rule began so fleeing wasn't a choice, she would have to keep quiet and blend in. Keep her head down until she'd saved up long enough to book illegal passage out of the country. Screw her new Bachelor's degree, it wasn't worth her life or any of her body parts. Her resolve towards this decision lasted a total of three days, two hours and seventeen seconds. Rey's conscience didn't allow it to last much longer after seeing men and women being dragged away against their will or shot at sight on the pavement with no explanations, sometimes shooting the people who rushed in to help as well. She'd been a child when her people were slaughtered by the Ottomans and erased from the history books, unable to do naught but weep. This time she could do something, this time she wouldn't let anything short of death drag her away from the fight. So when her friends Winter Celchu and Leia Organa told her of the armed movement called MIR she'd joined among other classmates at the University of Concepción Rey didn't have to be asked twice. 

Many of her fellow initiates had shown surprise when MR-8's liasions Comrade Diego's first words were a warning that most of them would face excruciating tortures and there was a good chance that half of them, including himself, might never reach the age of thirty. Miss Bowman (under the alias of Margarita Contreras) smiled at the man's honesty and earned his respect ever-since. The only peeve she had about him was that all Mr-8 insisted on using fake names, a trait exclusive to their Brazilian allies but Rey had overheard Comrade Felicia call each other by their real names as they made quiet; passionate love in blissful joy at the fact that they were together. Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor have found their soulmates amidst a Cold War. Neither of them will ever know how much she envies them for that.

It was difficult to reconcile the dopey-eyed man who whispered in bed onto Jyn's ears lovingly with the stone-faced gentleman who never betrayed his emotions as they expropriated funds from banks or bombed the radio station at night. It's impossible for her to understand how he went back to Jyn after executing someone as if nothing was out of place. Rey still has nightmares about the hail of sub-machine gun fire, the splattered brains of his bodyguards that made her sympathize with Lady Macbeth as she and Cassian bleached and burned the yellow pick up truck used for the execution. Perhaps the fact that Cassian grew up in the Brazilian dictatorship is the reason behind it, he was barely seven when his parents were killed in the 1964 Brazilian coup d'etat. Maybe he learned to compartmentalize everything in life by importance and saved his true feelings for Jyn until the Cold War is over, maybe that's how Andor's never asked why she still looks young despite him being the only person who's known her from the start of her revolutionary career.

Rey finds it hilarious that she managed to avoid getting caught for justifiable homicide but is probably going to be killed for remaining in the streets after curfew once the low flying police helicopters that scan this area catch sight of her. Even if the helicopters don't find her, the patrol officers will make quick work of a petite Theater student driving in spite of her cast. In an attempt to save herself she hides under the car's driver seat, rosary at her lips as she hopes that just this once they don't rip open the car doors. Fear puts her on hypertension as Rey hears the windowpane being tapped under the spot.

 "Señorita, señorita."

The accent is distinctly American, gringo to the core. Daring to presume that the government hasn't recruited USA soldiers for the night patrols Rey creeps out of her hiding place to find out if this new acquaintance spells her salvation or doom. The man who greets her can barely be called a man. Youth is personified in this blonde, pale blue eyed stranger whose innocence is betrayed by the relieved smile he flashes when he sees her, never once thinking that she could be part of a trap to catch people past curfew. Rey can't help but notice that he has Shmi's smile, something she'd seen in no one for decades, not even on young Anakin. It's the smile that convinced her to step out of the car and meet him. Rey decides to speak to her mystery door-knocker in English and spare herself the horrid accent she'd heard from him already.

"Are you aware that curfew was an hour ago Sir?"

"Yes, but the librarian said somebody got stuck in the road so I went to see if I could help. Sorry I took so long but you're pretty far away."  _You really are innocent if you think anybody else would dare to risk almost certain death for a stranger. You don't need to apologise, if anything you deserve a Medal of Honor._

"Don't beat yourself up over it. Just take me to your dorm, boy's apartments are nearer."

Her mystery knight taps the back seat of a motorcycle she hadn't noticed until he pointed it out.

"Hop on."

The ride is mercifully short yet Rey finds herself wishing it lasted longer than a few minutes. Finds herself wanting to inhale the clean smell of his shirt a little while more and listen to his heartbeat till the sun rises as he opens up the dorm where his roommate (who is also a gringo) hit him on the head and calls him an idiot for going outside after he explicitly ordered not to and hits him again for waiting until he took a shower to do so, good to know that someone with common sense is looking out for the mystery knight. The knight in shining armor certainly has none if his excuse for endangering himself is "Han, they were gonna kill her." Logic bone in his body or not, the man saved her life so Rey owes him a defense. Rey fixes her shirt, stands straight and speaks.

"If the rest of the USA was more like your roommate and less like you Han? Is it? Then there wouldn't be a single dictator in America so instead of hitting him try thanking God for having a friend whom you **know** would die for you."

Han remains stupefied for a second, then he pats her on the shoulder and says he likes her. Though he exclaims that she's probably sleeping on the floor since he just spent nineteen hours working so sorry kid but you caught me at the rare occasion where I actually need the bed, Rey knows that she'll be welcome and safe for the night with these two men as Han asks if she wants a plastic bag for her bag when she showers. The men's pajamas he hands her immediately after saying that proves she was right in her assessment.

"You can have my bed, I'm from a family of fruit pickers so it's no exaggeration when I say I've slept in worse conditions."

 _ **"Thank you.**_ Really, thanks so much. There's no way I can ever repay you for this."

"Start by getting a good night's sleep. Knowing you get to wake up is pretty gratifying. Though if you insist on paying me back after that then I won't say no to a cheese omelette."

She laughs and his face turns red, Rey actually feels like a young woman for the first time in God knows how long as the knight in shining blonde hair takes a pillow from his bed and brings a spare quilt from the closet. He lays down peacefully on the floor as if nothing was wrong, as if they weren't living in a country where the only guarantee for anyone who's not upper bourgeois or rich is that they'll watch or hear or know a person's died horribly every day. She wants to keep feeling the peace he exhumes, wants to cuddle him up and take far away from this butcher's playground before the world catches up to his gentle mannerisms and easy grin.

"You know, if I'm going to wish you sweet dreams then I need to know your name."

"I'm Margarita Contreras."

"Nice to meet you Margarita, can I call you Daisy?"

"Actually, my true friends call me Rey."  _Wait, did I just blurt my name to a complete stranger? What's wrong with me? Stop smiling you twat, it's too adorable._

"My name's Luke Skywalker. Sweet dreams Rey." 

Skywalker, a rare name if there ever was one. Proven by the fact that she's only met five individuals with that name across three continents and seventy-three years. **What is it with that family and getting caught neck-deep on international conflicts that nobody will save them from one way or another?** Anakin's son with his fierce protectiveness and his blond hair and the same dimple in his chin, Shmi's grandchild with the same eyes that harbored love and wisdom albeit in a more naive approach to life. It's been far too long since she had a Skywalker in her life and Rey's missed it so she promises herself that she won't let him slip into obscurity after today's events. 

"Sweet dreams Luke. I look forward to knowing you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Major-General Carol Urzua Ibáñez, who was killed by anti=Pinochet 'terrorists' whom historians believe to be MIR in co-allition with Mr-8. (No former members of said political organizations have ever come forward and admitted their role in the deed, most believe that the involved freedom fighters died without confessing.) Urzua was one of the many military men who worked in the Villa Grimaldi detention and torture centre where over 28 thousand Chileans are reported to have been tortured and/or killed, though officials have stated the true numbers are higher but nearly impossible to discover fully due to the heavy redaction and/or burning of documents to conceal the severity of Pinochet's crimes after the 1988 elections which led to democracy for Chile in 1990.  
> *In 1968 Mexico was chosen to host the 1968 Summer Olympics,it invested $150 million in preparation for the 1968 Olympics to be hosted in Mexico City. Roughly $1 billion today. Mexican President Gustavo Díaz Ordaz struggled to maintain peace during a time of rising social tensions but suppressed movements by labor unions and farmers fighting to improve their lot. His administration suppressed independent labor unions, farmers, and was heavy-handed in trying to direct the economy. Student protests only grew after police killed two boys in a soccer game and Diaz stood to lose the investment if the 'Che Guevara loving agitators' proved Mexico too unstable to host the Olympics. Mexico's tragedy unfolded on the night of October 2, 1968, when a student demonstration ended in a storm of bullets in La Plaza de las Tres Culturas at Tlatelolco, Mexico City. The extent of the violence stunned the country. When shooting stopped, hundreds of people lay dead or wounded, as Army and police forces seized surviving protesters and dragged them away and checked the nearby buildings for people hiding. Although months of nation-wide student strikes had prompted an increasingly hard-line response from the Diaz Ordaz regime, no one was prepared for the bloodbath. More shocking still was the cover-up that kicked in as soon as the smoke cleared. Eye-witnesses to the killings pointed to the President's "security" forces, who entered the plaza bristling with weapons, backed by armored vehicles. But the government pointed back, claiming that extremists and Communist agitators had initiated the violence. Who was responsible for Tlatelolco? The Mexican people have been demanding an answer ever since.
> 
> Hands out tin cup: comments please????


	4. 1983 part 2

October 12, Pablo Neruda's house in La Sebastiana (Valparaiso), 3 pm

When Rey was eight years old Shmi had dared her to catch a silver dollar that she threw over the bay as two ships were docking. Since she couldn't swim and thought the whole matter a joke she'd dared Shmi to do it instead. Her best friend started jogging away so Rey thought that'd be the end of it until Shmi turned around, took off her petticoat and dived head on to the fathomless waves that threatened to swallow her whole. The child had frantically run her hands on the water in search of Shmi while the boats kept getting nearer and was mentally writing a letter of condolence when her friend came back up with the silver dollar in her palm. Rey had thought that no person could ever be more reckless for such a frivolous matter. Shmi's grandson is proving that conclusion wrong as he leaves a Sony WM -36 Walkman 1980's Tape cassette player blaring out Angel Parra's "Me gustan los estudiantes"* on the other side to distract the scant police that aren't attending the parade long enough for them to climb the cement wall and enter Pablo Neruda's house for the sole reason that he wanted to see his favorite Chilean author's living space.

In moments like this, Rey is glad that she never got to know Anakin as well as she did his mother and is getting to know his son. Nobody can be expected to befriend three generations of Skywalkers and stay sane (Well, as sane as a 73 year old woman in a 19 year old girl's body can be anyway). Her only regret in this aspect is that Anakin died in Vietnam without knowing his son, any parent would be proud of siring a child so honest in everything he does. She thinks that his godfather Captain Obi-Wan Kenobi must have been proud of him if the way Luke speaks of the man is anything to go by. Luke says the truth as if everyone else did, with no reservations on what he believes or thinks or wants out of life save in the dire moments where failing to stay quiet or apologize would render him killed. (And even then he never fully takes the words back. Rey's sure that if he wasn't the nephew and son of American veterans he's be dead by now, gringo or not).

After a whole month and eleven days Rey has pondered _incessantly_ whether or not she should tell Luke the truth about her age. There's so much she could tell him if he didn't send her away and accepted her: they could discuss the grandmother he never met and collect stories for his writing about the coup d'état ten years ago or simply answer silly questions about what it was like to live in the Great Depression. With most people hiding the truth is just a necessary tool for survival, nothing personal against the human race or its scientists but watching ET last June **didn't** help Rey believe that her secret being told would end well. Not to mention how it would endanger the Dameron family if they were discovered harboring 'a creature of interest'. But with sweet, gentle Luke who turns a simple touch into a fantasy and a glance into pure ecstasy concealing the truth of her political affiliations as well as her age feels like she's committing a sin.

Part of Rey is worried if she gets any closer to Luke, then leaving with minimum damage won't be possible. The more time she spends with him, the more time she'll mourn his absence in her life after running away. She already wakes up and wishes for him to be the first person to greet her in the morning. When she goes to sleep, Rey's happiest if Luke's voice is the last one she hears before resting. He's been more attentive to her without the label of boyfriend or the carnal intimacy of a lover than half of the husbands Rey's watched from afar these seven decades. She should let him go, that way Luke can find someone who deserves him before it's too late and he falls in love. If he's anything like Shmi (he's too much like Shmi for someone who never spoke with her) then he'll stay in love with his chosen bride for as long as he lives.  
'That's why he needs a wife who he can grow old with, not a girl who they'll confuse for his daughter when he reaches 49 and I'm still 19', she thinks.

But another part of Rey, the more naively hopeful segment of her soul, wonders if maybe Maz hadn't been lying when she said her reason for the spell was to grant her a happy ending with her soulmate. Maybe her happy ending is Luke. Maybe if she stays with him then she'll start aging in a few years. God, she wants that to be true. She wants to grow old and start menstruating again. Another side effect of the spell, one she hadn't missed at first, but grew to hate after the first decade because it meant she couldn't have a baby. Rey desperately wants to have a bright beautiful little boy and girl with Luke's smile and also, God forgive her, **but she's tired of holding what must be the world record for oldest Virgin alive!!!**

"Rey, come over here. You gotta see this!"

  
"Not so loud. Someone might hear us."

Luke's words are softer in tone, a sign that he's listened to her advice. "Nothing will happen Rey. Just come over here please. "

  
Not knowing if she should laugh or huff in fake frustration in regards to Luke's remarkable ability to live in a permanent state of positivism Rey follows the sound of his voice. What she sees the man staring at is not what she'd expected. Rey had thought his attention would be caught by some antique vase or a painting. Perhaps some exotic flower bed since the man is eternally star-struck at them after a lifetime of Arizona desert with only a farm field his family would drive or run 5-10 miles to pick every day until last year. Instead she sees a photograph of Neruda's beloved Matilde next to a mysterious teenage girl dressed fashionably, with deep chocolate eyes and rich brown hair that remind Miss Rey Bowman of Luke and Miss Organa at the same time. 

Come to think of it, the girl looks familiar even without the comparison. Rey feels that she knows her, not in the way an old friend does, in the way you know a face that wasn't necessarily loved but you associate with something you cherished. Who was this woman-child that stood beside a poet's muse with poise befitting a queen? She should know her, Rey knows that she's important somehow but the memory evades her as the shore evades a ship caught in the storm.  _Maybe Luke will unknowingly provide the answer if I ask._

"Luke: why is this picture important enough for you to yell that I have to see it? Is the girl next to Matilde someone you know?"  
  
His eyes shine with the dream or memory that pulses through his pale blue irises as he softly touches the framed glass, yearning and love and melancholy encompassed in the small physical gesture. When he's finished, Luke turns and smiles with a hint of sadness that leaves behind any doubt that he knew this brown-eyed girl, this phantom face that eludes Rey against her will.

"She's my mother. Beautiful, isn't she? Her name was Padme Naberrie Amidala."

That small tidbit of information allows Rey to finally place the brown-eyed girl. It's a younger version of the woman who held Anakin's hand at Shmi's funeral and was kind enough to pay first-class for Rey's flight back to America. This was Shmi's 'Lady Padme' who left with Anakin and Qui-Gon all those years ago. Shmi said that Padme was loyal to the core in spite her wealthy, narcissistic higher class upbringing, that she would never betray a friend's secret. It seems that Padme's loyalty was also treasured by Pablo Neruda, if the picture's landscape rings true then it was taken around the late 50- early 60s when he was in exile and hiding his affair with Matilde at the same time.  When a phonecall was enough to send the man to prison Padme sheltered Neruda and his true love from the authorities. (Perhaps his 'Ode to the Flowers of Datitla' tributes Padme somehow, her name does mean flower. I must read it again it soon.) She must have been a remarkable woman, for him to place such trust in her, for Shmi to speak of her so highly. Now Rey deeply regrets not getting to know Padme better but she figures it's best this way. One less secret to hide from Luke, one less person to miss.

"I'm glad I get to see her this way with you Luke. She has a kind gaze, I can tell."  
  
"Obi-Wan always said I had her heart. Sometimes little things would come out through conversation but other than that he didn't talk about her much. I used to think it was cause it hurt him but now I'm wondering if it was to keep me safe from her political affiliations."

"What do you mean?"  
  
He taps to the ring in her middle finger. "You see that logo on her ring? It says 'For the land and with Sendic', meaning my mother may very well have helped found the Tupamaros* movement if she had contact with Raul Sendic this early."  
  
"You're exaggerating Luke. Perhaps someone gave her the ring as a gift and she wore it without knowing what it meant."  
  
"We're talking about my mother: one of the few high-born politicians who publicly protested the presidency of Jorge Pacheco Areco and was against his state of emergency from day one. I can totally see her funding an underground movement once she realized democracy in Uruguay was dead in all but name."  
  
"Trust me. You don't want a Tupamaro for a mother. They kidnapped people by the score and sometimes they actually killed them."  
  
"Oh come on, they only killed the CIA guy and a couple of money-washing bank managers. The ambassadors always went free. You want bloodthirsty killers? Look at the MIR people, those guys literally go out in broad daylight and shoot folks."  
  
**_I don't know what's worst: the fact that Luke called me a bloodthirsty killer or the fact that I can't rebuke him with cowardice or words only spoken in safety because he's the bravest civilian I've met so far. This is the worst place to start a conversation about politics, Luke knows that. He probably picked MIR as a ceasefire name so neither of us would get to the point of yelling and thus alerting the police. There has to be some way to be get back at him....Wait: I've got it!!!_**

"You're quite defensive of them for a civilian. Are you sure that you've never met a Tupamaro Luke?"  _Huh, you're not turning red with rage. There may be hope for you accepting me yet. On the freedom fighter secret at least, I'm still doubtful anyone would believe on the 'peculiarity' of my age._  
  
"Of course not. I just think that people should be slower to judge."  _Your left index finger twitched, that means you're lying but I don't mind. This lie serves to protect somebody and it confirms that you'll accept me when I'm ready to tell you the truth. It means that if Maz was just being a bitch and I'm truly immortal, you're willing to lie in order to keep my secret like Shmi was....._

She asks to leave the house after that moment, not wanting to spend a moment longer in this ode to lost memories. Luke complies but he doesn't agree to her statement regarding the house. What she calls a tragic memento Luke calls a symbol of hope. Why? Matilde's cancer will ensure she never sets foot on this house again, dictator or no dictator. By the time Pinochet's gone this house will belong to the ghosts of sad older woman and her husband who was or wasn't poisoned. All the bright colored windows are nailed shut, tucked away from the sun and the public that can barely mention its owners's name for fear of joining the 'disappeared'. Dust is the only visitor permitted in this manor that people turn their gazes away from to avoid suspicion. 

"How is this hopeful Luke? The people, the memories: they're gone."  
  
"No one's ever really gone."   
  
"If that's your defense then it's a dubious one. With lots of inprovable arguments that will get us nowhere."

"You're looking at it wrong Rey, just focusing on the here and now. Think of it as King Arthur said, 'It was a fair time that can not be forgotten. And because it will not be forgotten, that fair time may come again'. One day, if we fight and build and dream and love we can fill this dusty old house with sunlight again. Because so long as it stands there is always the chance, the hope that someone will succeed in defending what once was and the dream of what could be."

"Why do I even try to fight with a writer? You all have to be sublime arguements to stop people from realizing print is dead and television's the future."

He chases her in mock vengeance as they 'run' quietly towards the backdoor entrance where the guards only monitor at nighttime. Luke kisses Rey's cheek once he catches up to her, always so open. How is she ever going to live without him if things don't pan out? _Don't think about that, it won't happen. I won't let it happen._

The backdoor entrance's inner wall is a sky blue which reminds her of Luke's eyes as he presses an ear to the ground to check if anyone's coming. His quiet grin assures her the coast is clear as he pries a few nails off to guarantee the door won't squeak or open incorrectly when they leave. Shortly after picking the lock, Rey stares at the backdoor glass window design that consists of four small suns that must have glistened beautifully in the past and one large sun divided in two parts in between. She read a story once about the Egyptian sun god Ra who protected mankind from destruction every day. Rey thinks that's a lovely belief, the idea of a celestial orb forever vigilant of our well-being.

Sharing Luke's company is like a nice sunbath with no burns, she thinks as they cautiously step out Neruda's house. Rey takes one last look at the suns before closing them off from the world again. Luke extends his arm, gentlemanly despite his youthful clumsiness which makes her giggle and Han chuckle from time to time. It starts drizzling, hastening her close of the door. By the time they're warming up in a nearby restaurant the sky's turned slightly gray, his blonde locks are the only yellow natural light in the area.

'I left under the protection of several suns and stay with the last one for keeps'.

She kisses Luke after he gives her his coat (and after he draws the line at Rey trying to eat his uneaten soup and instead buys her a separate bowl). His lips taste like coffee and vegetable stew and mint and sunshine, when she says 'I love you' he says it back and kisses her again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Angel Parra was one of many musicians that were banned during the dictatorship, hearing this music out in the streets was practically asking to be detained. While most of the banned music was political in nature, the regime also banned songs that they believed were detrimental to traditional family values, for example Cindi Lauper's "Girls just wanna have fun" and Madonna's "Material Girl". Some musicians, like Victor Jara were executed on the early days of the regime.  
> *Also known as the MLN-T (Movimiento de Liberación Nacional-Tupamaros or Tupamaros National Liberation Movement), was a left-wing urban guerrilla group in Uruguay in the 1960s and 1970s. They were famous in the 60s for stealing momey and food which were later distributed to the poorer parts of Montevideo. After 1973, when the movement suffered a major blow due to a betrayal that landed more than half of their members in jail, they began to focus on anti-dictatorship propaganda, exposure of the state's human rights violation and training other anti-dictatorship factions in espionage instead of armed warfare. As one historian said "They went to Robin Hood to James Bond."  
> Hands out tin cup: comments please???.......


	5. 1983 part 3

November 28, male dormitories of Academy of Christian Humanism

Rey remembers in the movies, a couple's decision to physically consummate their love emerges after a great romantic scene or them narrowly escaping the jaws of death. When she and Luke decide, there's no rapid pace which hastens their enticement. They lack all adrenaline typically attributed to these 'carnal debaucheries' as the nuns from the orphanage would call this. It starts slowly, with a mundane conversation about whether or not new singer Cindi Lauper's album is actually worth listening to for the sole reson that it's censured. Then suddenly Luke kisses her as he's prone to do but something warm presses her to want more than his sunshine caresses, more than his lips which always leave her chilled yet flaming.

Rey can hear the nuns telling her she's going to hell if she does this. And Shmi's scandalized stare for doing this with her grandchild of all people, but she convinces herself the latter is just her imagination. Her friend would have wanted her to be happy. After she got over the shock, Shmi would be glad to know her grandson was dating a woman who wouldn't abandon him. 

That should be the end of it. The statement which ends all her inhibitions regarding this matter but her blasted early 20th century upbringing refuses to yield and before she know it the words come out of her mouth.

"We're getting married after this right?"

She mentally flogs herself once the sentence is out. This time Leia's modern yet tasteful voice is the one which rings loud and clear saying 'Honestly Rey, you have that gorgeous man about to neck you and you do that?' Marriage isn't a big deal for Leia. For her Luke's gratification would be enough but Leia was from a different time, a different upbringing.

Hesitancy threatens to build as Rey waits for the aforementioned man to respond. What will he think of that prudish outburst, will he laugh? Will he think she's trying to tell him that she's not ready for such a major step in their relationship? Oh God-

"Rey. As soon as I can afford a decent wedding ring, all which needs to be said is 'Yes, I will marry you'."

What happens next comes to them so naturally, feels so perfect; Rey **knows** she will remember it for all eternity, even after eons have passed by.

He asks her gently if she wants to continue. There is hope in his eyes but no expectation of her compliance in his voice. When she gives her consent and asks him in same in return, his blue eyes shine. The pale desert sky in his orbs transfigured into Eden's horizons.

They take their time. There's not a reason to hurry - no excuse to rush now, they both are reassured they want the same thing. Luke leans closer, kisses her gently and in time, guides her back onto the bed.

Against her own expectation, it's Rey who reaches first, loosening one button after another on Luke's shirt, and not forgetting to undo the ones on his wrist cuffs. She kisses the golden skin of each as she brings them into the light. She almost feels _slighted_ by the singlet he wears beneath it, but when he takes her into his arms again, she finds herself clinging to it instead of following through with her inclination to tear it off. 

It comes away eventually along with everything else, playful and teasing as each item comes off. Nervous tension and shyness evaporates under the heat of their rising passions; worked out by tender, lovely touch. They find themselves continuing to communicate, and as their confidence rose, nothing feels forbidden anymore. He's not afraid to run his hands down the full length of her naked torso. To move his fingers against her in a place which has her crying out in pleasure while she arcs closer, holds on tighter like she wants to be one with him.

And when they finally are, there's no pain, no blood; no sense of fear or thought they are committing a sin. They love and trust, and that's all there needs to be whilst they move as one.

He recites poetry to her breathless, like sweet-nothings as they come down from the high they've induced within one-another; caresses her hair while Shakespeare's 116th sonnet runs through his still flushed lips. Luke stops after 'Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.' Rey takes it as a sign time will not leave them ravaged as she snuggles close to his chest, basks in his ever-glowing warmth. She's happier than she's ever felt in her long and complicated life as Luke covers up her shoulders once he sees her slightly shiver. Chile is not known for its warm evenings in fall, but with him it almost feels like they're still in July.

In Rey's mind absolutely nothing can prevent her from just staying here all night to watch the sunrise with Luke. She just lays there, in a state of almost worship. Part of her long-buried desire for a large family escapes its tomb, Rey finds herself wishing she's with child. That they've just created a beautiful baby boy or girl with Luke's smile and her knack for adapting to different situations. She's content to just stay pressed with Luke in this twin-size bed and imagine the possibilities of their life together.

"Jesus Christ!! You deflowered the kid!!"

Her mind, it seems forgot to include the possibility Han Solo would come back unexpectedly for a notebook accidentally left behind. The aforementioned man looks like he's one step away from suffering cardiac shock. _For Pete's sake Han, contrary to your belief Luke and I are NOT children, he's almost 20 now and I'm nearing 74._ Luke's eyes come back to the real world as he covers himself up, trying to preserve his dignity.

"Han: know that I love you like a brother and I would gladly take a bullet for you. But please **LEAVE NOW**."

"All right I'll leave. Just let me ask Rey something: Is he okay for a first timer? Oh you're _blushing_. That good huh?"

Luke throws Han a pillow in an effort to usher him away without having to stand up since there's only one cover and neither of them want to leave the other exposed. Han raises his hands in the air, as if he were surrendering to some nefarious rival that only he can see. A devilish smirk not far from the corners of his mouth as he picks up his notebook and closes the door. Rey's gut tells her Han is **NEVER ** going to let them live this down. Best not give him any more blackmail material.

"Luke, I think we better put on some clothes before he walks in on purpose next time."

"Can we still snuggle afterwards?"

"You are such a dork. You know that right?"

"I don't mind Rey, as long as I'm your dork." 

She playfully bashes him on the head with the remaining pillow as a response. His reaction is to flash her that irresistible smile that causes Rey's heart to skip a beat as he dresses before her, fabric slowly enveloping Luke's golden-tanned skin until he's 'presentable'.  In her case she just puts on her jeans from the previous day and switches her sweaty camisole with one of Luke's dress shirts, wanting to keep the touch of him as long as possible.

"So now that we're dressed, can we snuggle?"  
  
Her smile must be an impressive sight when she lays back on the bed and enraptures herself in the steady hold of Luke's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hands out tin cup: comments please????


	6. 1983 part 4

December 15, 1983, Análisis headquarters

Luke takes a while to finish his interview with the newest released prisoner of Villa Grimaldi but Rey doesn't mind waiting, not in a newspaper building anyway. She's always loved how the smell of ink sails through the atmosphere, making one feel as if it was possible to inhale wisdom. Plus, the printing offices are much nicer now that the government's started to apply no-smoking rules on most buildings. Ink and coffee and sweat are preferable smells to the harsh smoke of nicotine.

Mister Carrasco lets her stay in Luke's 'office', which is really just a desk with a bunch of cheesy postcards from different parts of the US and a few countries in Latin America, tell-tale signs of his globe-trekking before College. To be fair, nobody has a real office in this building. The mark which differentiates Mister Carrasco from his employees is a label on his desk that says 'José Carrasco, periodista y redactor internacional'.

Out of nowhere, her dress catches and rips, so she searches through his desk for a sewing kit. In the largest drawer she finds his extremely battered hand me down backpack, the one Han dubbed 'The Mary Poppins carpet bag: male version'. Surely she can find a needle there.

The young-old woman pries open the zipper for the compartment where Luke keeps his first-aid kit. Or at least where she saw him take out a medicinal alcohol bottle with needle and thread that time when he patched up a random kid who got cut after falling on the asphalt. Luke was so sweet with the little brown-haired boy, the way he is with all children. Mrs Durron commented her 'husband' would make a splendid father if he wasn't one already, and Rey hadn't bothered correcting the woman. Marriage is the union of two people’s body and soul, Rey already gave **both** of them to her blue-eyed angel in human flesh. Besides, she does plan to have a baby with Luke someday, if fate allows it.

It is pure coincidence Rey's thoughts are marriage and children when she discovers the small velvet box in the backpack's compartment. Her heart starts beating faster and slower at the implication. 'Okay, calm down Rey. It's not necessarily an engagement ring. It could be a keychain or earrings or a pendant.' She spends the next five minutes pondering whether she should spoil the well-intentioned surprise or not, fighting the urge to open the tantalizing package. Then again, if it is an engagement ring then it's for the best if she sees it now instead of gasping like an idiot and forgetting what to say. With that in mind she peels off the lousy tape section sealing Luke's gift from the outside world. As she suspected, when Rey sees the sterling silver band with diamond-centered flowers her first reaction is to gasp for a few minutes and do nothing but smile at the simple yet elegant piece of jewelry.

"Rey: you in here darling?" She hides the box in her dress pocket upon hearing Luke's voice, regaining her senses at the thought of being caught unawares with the ring which very much fits her fashion tastes.

"I'm in your office... _if you can call it that_."

She can practically see him placing a hand over his heart in a mock indignation. "Hey, don't insult my working place. Some of the greatest stories ever to reach this country's ears were redacted less than a few square feet away from this spot."

Luke greets her with a kiss, warm and tender and perhaps a bit hopeful today or is she just projecting? She's not sure of anybody's emotions right now except for her own bubbling happiness. Her mind recalls the Disney movie about the talking deer where the owl spoke about being 'twitterpated': a psychological state in which your partner's company made life a vivid array of pink fluffy clouds. Rey's definitely 'twitterpated' as she softly places her head on Luke's chest, listening to the gentle pulse of his heart.

"Wow... What made you so happy today?- Not that I mind: happy is a good look on you-" She places a finger on his lips to halt his positively adorable rambling, amused by the way Luke can be so brilliant for some ways and unexplainably oblivious to others. Rey chalks it down to youth, trying to remember if she was ever so clueless at nineteen and halting herself before the past erases the smile from her face.

"Can't a girl be happy at the sight of her boyfriend?"

 "Of course, but it kinda felt different. Like there was a new piece to the puzzle." All right, not so oblivious. Just lacking context to understand the situation at full. There may be hope for the male population of humanity yet. Luke asks if she's ready to go, Rey takes her purse and straightens the wrinkles in her teal blue cotton ruffle sun dress. She doesn't miss the way Luke tries not to stare at her, gentlemanly to the core.

"So, where are we going?"

 "The library; reserved section for journalism majors."

Rey cannot help but pull a face. "You spend your whole day surrounded by print, and now you want to take me to a library?" she exaggerates a pout.

 "Come on Luke, I like things better when you get _adventurous_."

"It's just, I want to tell you something....really important and I think it'd be better to say it under sanctuary."

"How important?"

 "Life-altering important."

'He's going to ask me to marry him!! Oh dear, I have to get a fake baptism certificate if I want to marry Luke by the Church since my real one says I'm almost 74- I'll deal with that later, when I tell Luke the truth after he proposes. It'll be easier for him to believe me since I've leaving hints this whole month. Even Han noticed it was odd how vividly I _'memorized'_ the details of Christmas in New York during the Great Depression and he's far less insightful into women's minds than Luke. I pity the woman who marries him.'

Her lover's eyes grow more serious than Rey thought him capable of, as he takes her hand; almost like he was steeling himself for a scenario where she ended their relationship. 'Oh, for heaven's sake Luke, just because I never professed my unshakable belief in the institution of marriage doesn't mean that I'll run away from you once you propose. **I love you unconditionally** ; I love you more than I've ever loved anyone apart from the mother i barely remember and in some ways even more deeply than I did her.'

"Rey...first off, I want you to know some of the happiest moments of my life have been with you and, regardless of what you decide, I'll always be thankful to you for those moments."

"You've given me some pretty great moments as well."

"When fate brought me here, I wasn't expecting to fall in love with you. Honestly, I wasn't trying to fall in love at all. I came to Chile so I could help spread the truth about what's really happening here, and that was the bulk of my desires. But then you came along and suddenly there was more to the world than a cause. You changed everything for the better my love, you turned this butcher's playground into a paradise. And because of that I feel you deserve my truth....Rey-"

"I do."

His face scrunches in absolute confusion. "You do what?"

'I take it back, the human male is doomed.' Rey unearths the velvet box holding the beautiful ring from her dress pocket. "Luke: I do want to marry you."

She's never seen a proposal outside of movies but Rey knows, when the girl says 'yes' in any sort of manner, the boy is supposed to be overcome with joy. His face should light up and stars should fill his eyes. Luke stares at her as if she's somehow placed him in a heavily precarious situation, as if she's added grief to an already looming tragedy. 'What's wrong? What aren't you telling me?'

"Luke: what is it? Tell me."

 His expression is mixed: somewhat hopeful, but at the same time worried. "I bought that in case things turned out for the best. I'd thought that if they turned out for the worst then I'd be stuck with the 'what-if' but you showing up with that ring and saying 'I do' beforehand makes the worst even more horrible."

"Luke...No matter what I love you. Please believe me on that."

 

Whatever Luke was about to reveal was lost at the sight of Comrade Felicia/Jyn Erso entering the reserved section, her face is host to a statuesque serenity but Rey know that for her to have come all this way, there's an emergency. She informs Luke she has to leave; he plants a kiss on her knuckles as a response. This better be good Erso, otherwise I'm going to be pissed at you till the end of the century.

As Jyn gives her a gun Rey ends up swallowing the wish that this be important, she feels like King David who didn't want to come back to his beloved Princess Micah with Philistine blood in his hands as she puts on the hood and changes her clothes in the stained-window backseat of Jyn's assigned car. She hadn't killed anyone since the day before meeting Luke, all her latest assignments had to do with jamming TV signals and managing the radio station for 'Escucha Chile'* for the Soviet sympathizers. It made her forget Luke's comment in which he labeled her and her comrades killers. It's not as if she likes shooting military men in broad daylight, but if they don't kill these people they'll keep sending innocents to the 'interrogation' camps. This isn't a heated debate, its war. If you want to survive war, some moral compromises have to be made.

The words are logical, but they don't sound that way as her hands grab the 1981 Beretta model. She thinks about what Luke was saying; how he hadn't planned for her and the best case scenario came equipped with the worst. Best case scenario: democracy returns to this hellhole, Rey starts aging and she gets to grow old with Luke. Worst case scenario: the dictatorship survives another generation, Luke sees her shoot someone in the middle of the street and she dies at ninety looking nineteen. She stops with the melodrama and loads the cartridge of her gun. Luke or no Luke, she made a commitment to this cause and she owes them to follow through.

"What's the mission, Comrada Felicia?"

Jyn hands her a portfolio and she expects the standard military files. Instead her eyes land upon a Cardinal's picture. As a Catholic, the idea of shooting a defender of her faith leaves a bitter taste on Rey’s tongue. The now-masked Jyn perceives her apprehension and Rey thinks she's about to send her an encouraging look, but instead she opens her mouth to speak in Portuguese.

"We're not going to kill the Cardinal. MLN-T wouldn't allow it."

Rey frowns under the hood,"Tupamaros? What do those soft-hearted kidnappers have to do with this?"

"Higher ups have made a temporary alliance with them. They kidnapped Bishop Juan Francisco Fresno about two hours ago. They're hoping with him the new political strategy of Papal Mediation since Cardinal Antonio Samorè died this February will be revealed to us."

“So now we're kidnapping a Man of the Church who, by the way, has been characterized by his anti-dictatorial stance throughout his entire political stance."

"Margarita, I don't approve of this either: but desperate times call for desperate measures. This may be the only chance to find out what's going to happen inside the Chilean Junta AND the Argentine Chamber of Deputies. Besides, he'll probably be put to ransom like most of MLN-T's hostages are, so don't fret. If push comes to shove, the Pope can afford paying the man's bail."

She grits her teeth. "Fine, I'll cooperate with the Uruguayan pansies. But don't expect me to like any of these print-worshipping cowards."

Jyn stares at her through the brown linen of her mask, amused confusion creeping through her greenish eyes. _'Really Erso, are you my long-lost older sister or a freedom fighter? Make up your mind.'_ "Aren't you dating a 'print-worshipper', Margarita?"

No, I'm dating an idealist whose mind-frame is stuck on 1938, there's a difference."

Jyn's nose wrinkles, "If you say so. Truthfully, I have trouble remembering your boy's a gringo sometimes. He doesn't have the typical arrogance of the gringolandia citizens."

Rey almost replies in a sing-song voice those words are an exaggeration, but stops in time. Jyn won't appreciate any positive remark about US citizens and understandably so: no woman who saw their mother get dragged away from the CIA because their father quit the Brazilian Police after seeing the new torture techniques brought over by US officials will ever have a stellar review about the gringos. It's a miracle she didn't shoot Luke when they accidentally met last month and Jyn heard his North American accent. To this day Rey's convinced the only reason Jyn's somewhat fond of Luke is because he's too kind for anyone but the heartless to loath.

When Rey sees the Bishop her first thought in regards to the man is he looks friendly. The second is that he looks tired. She gives him credit for displaying a calm behavior, not many septuagenarians would maintain the air of one who motionlessly awaits his fate. A horrid part of her brain asks if the General she killed would have acted in such a dignified manner. Fortunately she's able to shut that foolish train of thought before it causes any mental damage. The Bishop is a man devoted to the people; the men she's killed strive to commit **genocide**. Comparing the man who kindly thanks a hooded Leia as she hands the Bishop a glass of water is like comparing a dog to a leech, irrational and a waste of time.

She watches Monsignor Fresno analyze the hands of those who hold him captive and wonders if he'll write about the differences of each freedom fighter's palms when (if) he's released. Or perhaps he's trying to figure out if any of them are known to him? It would hardly be a stupid thing to do. Maybe she's overthinking what goes on through his mind. After all, he could just be trying to distract himself from the situation somehow. This MLN-T base has nothing decorative unless you count the two year old newspapers they use to cover all windows and corners of where they'll interrogate the clergyman and leave him to sleep.

Leia makes a signal with her hand, urging Rey to come forward. How the young woman manages to look aristocratic while wearing a brown potato bag over her head and cheap denim pants which probably scratch more than they're worth, Rey will never know. She leaves the room holding the Bishop, Leia directs her to the improved mess hall where Bodhi, Ezra and other people she's yet to meet all eat with their faces uncovered. She locks eyes with Leia, asking the fellow rebel if it's truly safe to reveal her identity in front of these strangers. Organa responds by taking off her bag and sitting down to eat with them, Rey does her best to relax and convince herself there's good folks in this branch of the anti-dictatorial crusaders. She turns to speak with Leia.

Who gets to interrogate Monsignor Fresno?" "You wanna do it? I'm sure Mr-8 will have no objections, you have a knack for keeping a cool head but if you do then you'll have to work beside the Tupamaro."

"Understood. Who did they send?"

 "Not sure, we'll know in about a minute. They said the person who shows up wearing their ring is the chosen one."

 She resists the urge to laugh at the overly dramatic choice of wording so as to not embitter those who may or may not belong to the Uruguayan group sitting at this table. As Lincoln so wisely stated: a house divided against itself cannot stand. If they start petty squabbles amongst themselves the Chilean Secret Police will make mincemeat of them all.

Rey hears a voice which sounds an awful lot like her Luke asking how the Bishop is being treated and if they've sent a message to the Vatican or the Chilean Junta regarding his 'current state of affairs'. From the hallways the man with Luke's voice gets his questions answered by Cassian. Rey stands up to greet the man, hoping the courtesy will win her favor in this Tupamaro's eyes as his footsteps grow closer.

"We need to be informed of the Vatican Secretary's stance before any news of the Bishop can be distributed. Do you have any inside sources- **_REY!?!?_** ""

Rey almost suffers cardiac arrest at the sight of Luke Skywalker standing right in front of her with a Tupamaro ring on his finger, her sweet and wonderful Luke who begs her not to squish spiders aligned with a group of kidnappers? If she were truly nineteen she'd faint, instead she stares at him in unbridled fury demanding an explanation with her eyes the way only old woman are capable of doing. "So this is your truth darling?"

Luke's stare is regretful but it does little to dissuade Rey from harboring anger towards him. "This is neither the place nor place to discuss that matter."

'How dare he!' In that moment Rey doesn't act like a freedom fighter or an older woman grown wiser with age, she is simply a hurt woman lashing out. Slapping him calms down her rising tempers until Luke's stupidly perfect blue eyes gaze at her in lamentation. 'Be angry at me damn it !! I lied to you as well, Luke why aren't you as angry with me as I am with you? Scream at me, slap me back, react in a fashion remotely similar to the way a normal man would.' Luke tries to hold her hand, she denies him the contact and her boyfriend leaves to rendezvous with Cassian as Han Solo call out his name (Is no one trustworthy these days?!?) The fury comes back full throttle at the sound of Han's voice.

Rey stomps out of the room and rushes over to the car where her clothes are. In a fit she takes out the velvet box from its safe place in her dress pocket and proceeds to throw it on the fireplace where they burn all the bloodied clothes or newspapers with marked spots for future lodgings.

Once the rage passes - ten seconds later, Rey _frantically_ rushes to save the tiny package from the flames, she burns her fingertips but the tiny package is only slightly burnt around the corners so Rey counts it as non-consequential damage. Leia finds her crying at the fireplace and bandages her hands....She makes amends with the ring by placing it as pendant around her neck the following day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Habla Moscú, Escucha Chile, known simply as 'Escucha Chile' was a program of the Radio Moscow World Service, it served as the common ground for many anti-Pinochet groups be they radical or democratic to oppose the dictatorship.   
> Hands out tin cup: comments please????

**Author's Note:**

> *մայր: mother in Armenian.  
> Hands out tin cup: comments please????  
> I really need some feedback on this one so please don't be shy.


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